The Greatest Thing
by ClaireCorsair
Summary: Follows Lily Evans (and, to some extent, James Potter) throughout her last year at Hogwarts & beyond! :)
1. Prologue

_The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return._

* * *

**Prologue (Fall, 1977)**

I absolutely adored Hogwarts, and I always spent my summers looking forward to going back—if only to get away from my sister Petunia—but this year I felt both excitement and a creeping dread, knowing this would be my last year of relative safety. Once I left at the end of spring, I'd have no choice but to face the growing darkness of Voldemort and his war, and the prospect absolutely terrified me.

Luckily, though, I still had the comfort that months and months of boring classes, adventures with friends, and unknown pleasures stood between me and then.

"Chocolate frog?" Marlene McKinnon, one of my absolute closest mates, held out the offered box with one hand, flipping casually through the _Daily Prophet_ with the other.

"Yes, please," I answered, snatching one up quickly before it could escape and popping it in my mouth. "Anyone know how much longer it'll be until we get there?"

Alice Prewett, my other best mate, looked up from the book she'd been hunched over with a shrug.

"I imagine we must be getting close, we've been on this thing for hours."

Marlene sighed, refolding the paper and tossing it carelessly to the floor.

"You'd think that being magical and all, we'd have found a faster way to get to the bloody north of Scotland without having to sit on a bloody train for a million hours. Useless, it is," she said, stretching her arms up overhead with a yawn.

I snorted, turning to the window in the hopes that our surroundings would give an idea of where we were. The heather and gorse spread out far beyond the rail tracks, the beautiful purple and yellow of late summer in Scotland.

"Very close, I'd say, Marlene. Worth the wait, though, isn't it?" I turned back to her, grinning like an idiot, unable to control my joy at the prospect of returning to my favorite place in the world.

Marlene laughed at my enthusiasm, patting me on the head as if I were a small, excitable child.

"Sure, Evans. Shouldn't you be meeting with the prefects now, though?"

I froze for a second before jumping out of my seat in a split second. I'd completely forgotten about the prefects, and I was Head Girl—not exactly an optimistic beginning.

"Shit, Marlene! Alice, why didn't you remind me?!" I wildly threw on my black robes, trying to adjust my hair and look like a respectable, presentable Head Girl. "Ah, shit, shit, shit!"

Marlene and Alice politely suppressed their smiles by pressing their knuckles to their mouths, and I chose to ignore them, slamming open the door and walking as fast as possible down the corridor without breaking into a run. When I reached the prefects compartment, though, I could see the meeting had already begun, the Head Boy—whose back was turned—gesturing and saying something that was making everybody else laugh. I took a deep breath, steadying myself, before gently sliding back the door to the compartment and stepping in.

"Hello," I said brightly, hoping I looked much calmer than I felt. "I'm Lily Evans, Head Girl. I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I…"

My voice trailed off as the Head Boy turned, pushing his glasses back up his nose with his forefinger and trying to smooth his disheveled black hair.

"Evans!" James Potter said cheerfully. "So you've decided to join us. Wonderful!"

I stood frozen, with just enough presence of mind to shut my mouth instead of letting it hang open in shock. James Potter? The James Potter who bullied the entire school, made a fool of me, the James Potter who I could not stand and who I was sure had no inkling at all what the notion of responsibility entailed, was the bloody Head Boy?

"Ah. Yes." I felt my neck turning hot, though I couldn't determine whether it was from anger or embarrassment. "What are we talking about, then?"

Potter took two steps, slinging an arm around my shoulder and smiling down at me. I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to shove him and his condescending self away from me.

"Well, we were just discussing the importance of remembering your responsibilities, Evans."

I laughed as best I could, as if I thought it was the funniest joke, and stepped forward to address the prefects, all of whom sat with slightly confused faces, took a deep breath, and explained to them their duties as best I could. Halfway through, their faces grew bored, but they listened politely enough and filed out with murmured "Thank yous" at the end. I made to follow them, but James grabbed my arm before I could reach the door.

"Not mad with me, are you, Evans? Dumbledore chose me for a reason, you know. I'm not going to—I mean, I'm not as much of a mindless jerk as you think I am," he said, standing before me with his brows furrowed over concerned hazel eyes.

"Mm," I answered noncommittally, trying to imagine what the hell kind of practical joke Dumbledore was playing and stepped past him, not stopping to look back until I got to my own compartment and sagged onto my seat beside Marlene.

"Tough crowd this year?" asked Alice sympathetically, filing her book back into her things. I shook my head in disbelief, not even sure how I was going to make it through the year dealing with James Potter every single bloody day.

"Unbelievably."


	2. Chapter 1

_NOTE: This is a bit of a short chapter, next one should be longer! Just wanted to get the story started without an overwhelmingly long chapter. Next one should be more interesting/longer. Thanks for reading! :)_

* * *

The Start of Term Feast was one of the most over-the-top, lavish, extravagant things I had ever experienced in my life, and I had looked forward to it every year since I had arrived at the age of eleven and stuffed myself with so much food and drink that I could barely walk up to my dormitory. This year was no exception; I waited patiently through the Sorting Hat process, clapping obligingly whenever someone was chosen for Gryffindor, but I could feel my stomach rumbling and the lack of a complete meal since breakfast had me light-headed and cranky. When the Sorting Hat was finally taken away and the food appeared, I nearly took out an eye in my hurry to pile everything in sight onto my plate.

Sure, Voldemort was out there, probably plotting something terrible and horrifying and evil, but I couldn't imagine that anything bad existed in the world when there were so many decadent puddings and pies in front of me. I'd already seen a few students clumsily make their way from the hall, presumably in search of Madame Pomfrey and a potion that would ease their stomachs. Of course, I'd learned long ago how to exercise enough self-control avoid such discomfort, but I did regretfully wish for a moment that I hadn't, watching the first years grab at everything, unsure what to do with all of the glory presented before them.

Making a little noise of satisfaction, I pushed my plate away and rested my chin in my hands, contemplating my situation. Against my wishes, Marlene and Alice had chosen spots right next to the "Marauders"—James' self-absorbed group of friends, inseparable and so full of themselves they barely registered the presence of anyone else, save to tease and mock them. Marlene, though, had quite a crush on Sirius Black, who was almost worse than James; he was good-looking, with long, ruffled black hair and piercing grey eyes, and he had amassed a sort of fan club of girls who adored his looks and darkness, especially when he ignored them—as he was doing to Marlene. She had insisted on sitting as close as possible, and I watched her as she laughed obnoxiously at something he said, touching his arm as often as she could get a chance, the sluggishness of overeating the only thing that prevented me from reaching across the table and boxing her ears for being so ridiculous.

At long last, the feast ended and the food disappeared from the tables. First year students began standing and chatting, waiting for their prefects to guide them to the dormitories.

I cleared my throat and spoke as loudly as I could. "Gryffindor first years, with me!"

A few of the small witches and wizards looked at me, startled, but obediently began trailing behind me as I led them out the door and up the main staircase towards the Gryffindor dormitories.

"Evans! Wait!"

I turned at the threshold of the huge doors to see James Potter weaving through the students after me, grinning cheekily and waving my wand in the air.

"I think you forgot something," he said as he reached me, extending the wand for me to grasp. "It was on the bench, I didn't steal it or anything," he added quickly as I peered suspiciously at him, reaching out to pluck the wand from his grasp.

"Sure, Potter," I said, rolling my eyes. "Like you're so above that sort of thing now, eh? I mustn't know you at all anymore."

"I—you don't," he said baldly, but keeping his voice low. The first years were shifting nervously, trying to behave but whispering and giggling nervously amongst themselves. I glanced back at James's face, surprised to see him staring at me without a trace of humor.

"Okay, then," I replied awkwardly, unsure how to respond to an apparently serious James Potter, and then suddenly realized what he'd said. "I mean—what? What are you on about, I don't know you at all? What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not insulting you or anything, Evans! Bloody hell." He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, just below his glasses. "I just meant that I'm not…I'm not whoever you thought you knew. I'm not him anymore. I just wanted you to know that."

For once in my life, I was stunned into silence, no witty rejoinders coming to my aid. I stood for a moment, staring at him, wondering what the hell was going on, before shrugging it off as something to think about later; for now, I had to focus on my first years.

"Alright, Potter. I suppose we'll see, then," I said, and awkwardly patted his shoulder before turning and beckoning the first years to follow. James walked at my side, turned round to face the students, calling out the story of Godric Gryffindor and informing them of everything they'd need to know to succeed at Hogwarts. I bit my tongue, listening carefully in case I should need to correct him, but was somewhat pleasantly surprised to find that while he delivered the details with his usual humorous tone, it was all right. When we finally reached Gryffindor Tower, he composed a little rhyme to help them remember the password—which was "amor fati," for now—to give to the Fat Lady before ushering them through to their beds.

I said nothing beyond raising one eyebrow in concession, and made to go up to my own room and fall to sleep immediately.

"How did I do, Evans?" Potter's voice blurted out into the silence behind me before I was even halfway up the steps to the girls' dormitory.

"Decently enough," I answered carefully, somewhat annoyed at the small part of me that wanted to tell him I was actually incredibly impressed. "The first years seemed to love it, at any rate. Been practicing all summer, have you? Want to be the most popular Head Boy ever, or something?"

Potter grinned cheekily. "Well, it wouldn't be the worst thing," he said, running his fingers through his mess of black hair. "Think I might be better than you, even. Didn't even need to be a prefect, see?"

I let a laugh escape despite myself, contradictory feelings of annoyance at his ego and concession to the fact that he was right battling each other for top place. Irked, I decided to go directly to my bed and put all thoughts of James Potter firmly from my mind, but he stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm.

"I really wanted to say, though, I don't take this lightly," he said soberly, his face without any trace of its usual humor. "I'm not going to be like I was, like you always knew me. You can trust me, Evans. I mean, what with Voldemort and everything, I think—well, I've just seen I have no choice but to grow up. And I want to prove myself to you."

At this last, a little flush spread up from his neck into his cheeks, but he cleared his throat and kept his locked on mine. I nodded slowly in response, trying to digest what he was saying; normally, I'd dismiss any claims of maturity from James Potter as lazy attempts to get me to agree to go out with him, but he seemed uncomfortably genuine this time. I couldn't process whatever was going on with him at the moment, though—my stomach was feeling extremely heavy and my eyes were fluttering shut as I stood before him on the stairs, so I patted him clumsily on the shoulder.

"We'll see, Potter," I said, not unkindly. "Sleep tight."

I turned before he could get in another word and dashed as fast as I could up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, changing into my pajamas and sliding into bed, listening to Marlene and Alice whisper about their summers and how exciting this year would be. Smiling to myself, I snuggled down into my covers, trying my hardest not to think about James Potter and his silly messy hair and his stupid hazel eyes and the idiotic grin that dimpled his cheek ever so slightly, and failing miserably. With a stir of annoyance, I realized that I was not immune to his charms, after all. Snorting at my own idiocy, I turned on my side and fell asleep wondering how in less than twenty-four hours, my opinion of James Potter had changed from seeing him as an annoying, egotistic bully to a semi-responsible boy who I almost fancied.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Three (Fall, 1977)**

Avoiding Potter turned out to be nearly impossible, even if I'd wanted to—the prospect was enticing in that it would allow me to regain a bit of sanity and remind myself of the myriad of reasons why he was absolutely in no way a possible suitor, but it also meant less time to observe the new and improved James Potter, and that turned out to be something I didn't want to miss out on.

In any event, I didn't have to worry myself about how to approach the situation; he was in all of my classes, smiling at me innocently in Charms, sitting next to me and asking for my help in Potions, sternly reprimanding and docking points from students in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures, modestly raising his hand and calling out the correct answer in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Marlene and Alice noticed, and I noted them wiggling their eyebrows at each other and giving me knowing looks, occasionally even nudging me with a wink, which made me feel simultaneously embarrassed for and extremely annoyed at them.

"Stop it, you gits," I hissed, turning to their table behind me in Potions when James went to the front to collect a few more ingredients. "You're so bloody immature, just because I'm friendly to a person who _happens_ to be male, you think I'm _interested_ in him? How old are you?!"

Marlene actually snorted, and Alice simply raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you just happen to be friendlier than usual to a boy you used to hate with a passion, and we're supposed to think nothing's going on? How old do you _think_ we are, Evans?" Marlene leaned forward and rested her chin on her hands with a sweet smile, daring me to deny anything.

"We wouldn't judge you, Lily," Alice said sincerely. "These things happen."

"I—yeah, friendships happen, and they end, too. And this one will be over before you can say _reparo_, if you keep on, yeah?" I turned back to my cauldron, feeling my neck and cheeks growing uncomfortably warm, and tried to compose myself.

There was no way I was actually, seriously thinking about James Potter, and I knew that—sure, he was impressively non-jerky these days, but just because I found him more tolerable didn't mean whatever Marlene and Alice thought.

"Alright, Evans?" he said with a grin as he sat next to me, dropping a few mistletoe berries on the table before us.

"Never better, Potter," I answered, resolutely ignoring my erstwhile friends.

* * *

"Are you trying to impress me, Potter?" I said bluntly as I sat next to him at supper, ignoring the raised eyebrows from his friends—Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black, the so-called "Marauders." I had resolved earlier in the afternoon that the only course of action would be to confront Potter, call him out on the being-mature-and-fun-without-bullying-people act and resume our normal, annoying relations.

"What?" he asked innocently, blinking widely. "Whatever could you mean, Evans? I'm just trying to be the model Head Boy, is all…"

Remus rolled his eyes as Sirius snorted at this description of their friend.

"You, a 'model Head Boy'?" Sirius mimicked James before leaned across the table, his shaggy dark hair falling over the steely grey eyes as he waved his bread roll at James. "You've become a bit of a pretentious tosser, Prongs, not to mention the most boring of the Marauders—hell, you're starting to beat out Moony here for title of 'least fun'."

James shrugged with a grin, but otherwise ignored his friend's jibes.

"Well?" I said impatiently; Marlene and Alice had been held up in front of the mirror, Alice having tried and disastrously failed to make a pimple disappear, but I didn't have very long and certainly didn't want to deal with whatever clever little lines they'd come up with about me actually seeking out the Marauders to speak with Potter.

"No, Evans, I'm not trying to impress you," he responded, sighing theatrically and rolling his eyes. Sirius laughed, but Remus looked at him thoughtfully, and Peter just sat there observing.

"Right. Well, excellent, then. Good night," I said, wishing I'd felt surprised at the sense of deflation his words had given me. To be honest, though—and I had to be, at least with myself—I was kind of hoping he'd been trying to impress me, that he'd ask me out just one more time so I could _maybe_ say yes and _maybe_ we could get to know each other anew, without the drama and everything else…

Having bid the rest of the Marauders good night, though, I found myself with no other options that would preserve my dignity than to get up and find a place further down the table in my usual spot. Before I could take a step, I caught a pair of black eyes looking my way, and nearly waved with a smile before remembering why I hadn't spoken to the owner of those eyes in over a year.

"Bugger off, Snape," I said under my breath, clenching my fists. I'd been torn between sadness and anger when our friendship had ended, but it had faded away over time into simple irritation. He was a Death Eater—he sided with Voldemort, and there was no way I could even stand the presence of such a prejudiced, single-minded idiot, much less be their friend.

I refused to be the first to break eye contact, though, and raised my eyebrows until he turned sullenly and sat with his little Slytherin friends, obviously disgruntled. Well, he could go right ahead—he didn't deserve my attention at all, not anymore.

* * *

It wasn't until the next week, sitting in the library and growing ever-more bored with memorizing Potions recipes, that I decided that getting to know James more intimately would not, in fact, be the embarrassing and torturous process I imagined it would be. Having thus made my decision, I threw my books into my bag and made my way down to the Quidditch pitch where the Gryffindor team was practicing. The sun was gently lowering down over the horizon, blazing on the leaves changing from a deep green to russet and gold, and I was struck with a sudden pang that this time next year, I'd probably be too busy trying to kill or be killed to notice these things.

Exhaling forcefully through my nose, I shook my head to clear it of all morbid thoughts, instead trying to focus only on how I was going to approach Potter.

"Hey, Potter! No, no, that's too...Hello, James. Hello, James—would you care to—ah, would you like to..."

"Why, yes, I would, Evans! Thank you very much."

I jumped with a little scream, my hand automatically yanking my wand out of my jeans pocket. James was standing before me, grinning cheekily, the sun burning on his messy black hair.

"Merlin, James, I swear, I almost hexed you," I said forcefully, pressing a hand on my chest to slow my heart rate and feeling so ridiculously embarrassed. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Practice ended early." He shrugged, broomstick in hand. "I imagine you wanted to ask me something, though?"

"Mhm," I said, replacing my wand. "I...ah, well, I rather thought since we _are_ Head Girl and Boy, you know, we should perhaps get to know each other, maybe a little bit better, so that we could work more effectively as a team, to help Hogwarts. I—we could be friends, at least." I trailed off, my throat having suddenly gone dry, and stared just over his shoulder, willing myself to stop being such a twitchy idiot.

"Yeah, sure!" he answered easily, smiling again. "I'd love to, Evans. Er, I suppose, Lily? Feels a bit strange to call you that, but I suppose if we're to be friends! Shall we go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, then?"

"Sounds excellent," I said, keeping my voice cool and calm but unable to resist grinning back at him. "See you there."


	4. Chapter 3

**AN: **Hi! Thank you for reading :) Please feel free to leave reviews and let me know if you like it, and if the chapters are too long/short, etc. ~ constructive criticism is also welcome! Thank you!

* * *

**Chapter Three (Fall, 1977)**

_Shit, shit, shit_, I thought to myself, clutching a Butterbeer with sweaty hands and desperately fighting the urge to get up and bolt out of the door into what would surely be some very refreshing fall air. Trying to be friends with Potter was turning out to be far more uncomfortable than I had anticipated—our relationship for years had been a continuous oscillation between annoyed jokes and outright fighting, and I had no idea how to hold a normal conversation with him for longer than five minutes.

"So, Evans." I looked up from my contemplations to see Sirius Black eyeing me suspiciously, Firewhiskey in hand. "On a date with Potter, are we?"

"A little young for that drink, are we?" I replied shortly, raising an eyebrow at his mug. He just shrugged happily and took a deep sip.

"Ah, Evans, it's just a little matter of knowing the right things to say to the right people. Don't be avoiding the question now, though—you and Potter, hm?"

"We're friends, Black. It's not like we're at Madame Puddifoots or anything," I snapped. "Why the bloody hell does everyone think a girl trying to be friendly means she wants to date anyone?"

I may have been able to admit my own semi-attraction to James Potter, and dealt with it on my own; that didn't mean I had to tell everyone in Hogwarts about my own personal, not-so-completely-developed feelings, particularly not Sirius Black.

"I never said that!" he responded, hands in the air in protest. "Just wondering. Merlin, Evans, you're uptight." Sighing, he shook his head and rose. "Enjoy your date," he added, grinning wickedly down at me before melting back into the crowd.

"Bloody idiot," I muttered under my breath.

Another large hand set a drink down across from me and I momentarily thought it was Sirius, back for more, and looked open ready to snap before seeing it was James, having brought back two more Butterbeers.

"Who's a bloody idiot?" he said, grinning cheerfully. He didn't seem nervous at all, though I expected he wouldn't—he'd been trying to get me to like him for nearly seven years now, and here were all of his dreams coming true. The only problem was that I was likely not living up to expectations, and I sighed audibly at the irony.

"No one unusual," I replied smartly, raising my own half-finished Butterbeer. "Cheers."

"Cheers!" James took a little swig as I drained the rest of my own drink, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "Well, Evans, I have to say, I never expected you to be a champion drinker. Been hiding your talents from me, have you?"

"No," I said quickly, reaching across the table for my second. "I'm just a tad bit thirsty, is all. Merlin, it's crowded in here, isn't it? I'm feeling a bit overheated."

James laughed. "Sure, Evans, sure. I'll tell you what—you finish that, and we'll go outside. Ah….maybe we could go up to the Shrieking Shack?"

I paused, the Butterbeer lifted halfway to my mouth; going up to the Shrieking Shack alone with James Potter was probably not the best course of action, and certainly wouldn't aid in my efforts to insist that we were truly and simply just friends. On the other hand, though, I imagined a bit of fresh air and quiet would allow me to think more clearly and perhaps stop acting like such a bloody idiot.

"Alright, Potter," I said with a shrug. "Not afraid that it might actually be haunted?"

He snorted in reply. "I _know_ it's not haunted." Looking at me speculatively over the rim of his mug, he frowned. "Do you think it is? Are you…um, are you scared?"

"No! No, don't be ridiculous."

James nodded, and we finished up our Butterbeers before slipping our jackets on and slipping through the crowd to exit the Three Broomsticks. I caught Marlene and Alice's eyes as they stood chatting with Frank Longbottom; Marlene waggled her eyebrows, but Alice was too engrossed in her conversation to notice me. I rolled my eyes at Marlene and shrugged, as if I was just indulging Potter, and followed him out into the crisp autumn air.

* * *

"So, Evans, tell me the truth—how am I doing as Head Boy?"

We had meandered in relative silence up to the Shrieking Shack and were now sitting on a rather large boulder, observing it.

"Actually, Potter, you're doing pretty well," I answered. And truthfully, he had; we'd been taking turns patrolling the corridors after curfew, but I'd seen him deduct a few points and give out a few detentions where necessary, which I found impressive coming from one of the most infamous rule-breakers in Hogwarts history. He wasn't the _best_ Head Boy I could've imagined, but he wasn't bad.

"High praise!" he exclaimed. "Bet you never expected to be saying that to me, Evans."

"Well," I said slowly, "you're right, there. How did you manage to be Head Boy, Potter? It's still a bit of a mystery to me."

"Oh, yeah, I—" His voice caught and he cleared his throat, evidently a teensy bit uncomfortable. "I asked Dumbledore for it. That's all."

"Why?"

James shrugged. "I wanted you to know that I'm responsible—that I can be responsible, and not just the twat you always thought I was."

"I never said you were a twat, Potter!" I protested, feeling a stupid slow warmth in my stomach at his admission.

"Yeah, well, you _thought _it, don't deny that," he said, but with a laugh. "Honestly, though, that's it. I just asked Dumbledore to give me the chance, I said I knew things were gonna get serious as soon as we left Hogwarts and I wanted to prove myself. To me, to the school, to you. That I could be someone to trust, to rely on. I think we all need to be better, now. I mean, except you, Evans, considering you're already pretty much perfect," he added hastily.

"Ha, ha," I said, rolling my eyes. "I think it's impressive, though." I sighed, rubbing my palms on my jeans and trying to capture the moment in my mind. "You're right—we're all gonna need to be the best once we get out…there. Voldemort's not playing games."

He nodded, silent, listening to the breeze rustle the leaves against each other, gently lifting my hair off the nape of my neck and fluttering the gingery strands in the air. I inhaled deeply, feeling complete freedom—I knew I'd have to go out and face the evil that Voldemort had created, but for the moment I was almost careless, feeling only the stirrings of hope and anticipation for whatever my future held.

"Evans—"

"Yes, Potter?"

"Do you think—and I _swear_, I didn't do all of this just to impress you, but—would you please go out with me?"

I could practically feel him holding his breath, and I ignored the old impulse to shut him down as fast as possible. _He isn't the same James_, I reminded myself, and I could feel it; his voice had lost the egotistic drawl it usually held when he asked me out.

But, alas, I wasn't actually mature enough to give him a serious answer—I tried, and the words got stuck in my throat, my brain confused as to what to do without regurgitating the usual "In your dreams" or "Yeah, right" or "Bugger off."

"Um. What do you mean?" I said finally, clenching my hands into fists as I heard my voice crack.

"What?" He sounded completely taken off-guard. "What do I _mean_? Evans, I asked you to go out with me, I don't think it's that complicated of a concept. Surely, if you can ace Potions so well that you get the Head of Slytherin to love you, you can understand what 'going out' entails."

"Slughorn doesn't love me!" I protested, squirming uncomfortably. "And no, Potter, it's not that simple—" I broke off, sighing impatiently. As if he'd bloody changed! Making me feel like an absolute bloody idiot, when I was actually _trying_ to take him seriously—

"Sorry, Lily." His voice was soft and I barely heard it, on the verge of yelling some very nasty things at him. Luckily, though, I shut my mouth in time before I could do anything which would be regrettable. "I'm just…well, I mean, it's a little embarrassing having to explain out loud what I explicitly mean, and you've shut me down thousands of times before, and it's already pretty embarrassing to try again."

"Oh." I cleared my throat a little, feeling unbelievably uncomfortable. "Ah, yes, then. I suppose."

James was silent for a moment, and I turned to see if he heard me; he had. His face was completely confused, both brows drawn together and his mouth hanging open in disbelief. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing; he just looked so _silly_ and adorable and awe-struck and I wished for one brief moment that I'd said yes to him sooner, just so I could see this beautiful expression of near-gratitude.

"Are you serious?" He said at last, laughing in disbelief. "Are you _serious_, Ev—Lily?! Don't joke with me, please don't, I couldn't—ha!" He whooped with laughter, jumping up from the boulder and grabbing my hands, pulling me to stand in front of him, laughing.

"I'm not joking, really," I promised, smiling at the gleeful expression on his face. "Don't make me regret it, Potter, or I swear to you—"

"No, no, you won't regret it, Lily, I promise, trust me, I—this is unbelievable!"

And, without thinking, I stood on my toes and, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his neck, pulled his head down to kiss me, both of us smiling. His arms came around me quickly, holding me against him, and he released my lips to smile into my eyes before lowering his head to nuzzle into my neck. I breathed deeply, my cheeks already aching from the wide smile plastered to my face, and thought I had never in my life been so purely happy.

* * *

I sat patiently on my bed, silently congratulating myself for not hexing Alice and Marlene—who were practically cackling with laughter, and had been for the last few minutes—with pimples for the rest of their lives, tapping my wand against my fingers and waiting for them to grow up.

"It _is_ a bit rude, you know," I said loudly. Alice, to her credit, tried to put on a straight face and looked even a little apologetic, but one look at Marlene sent her straight back into hysterics.

Rolling my eyes, I immediately switched tactics.

"No one's making fun of you for fancying Frank Longbottom, and it isn't very nice that I try to share something with you and this is what I get!"

_That_ made Alice shut up, and even Marlene sat up and pressed a hand to her mouth to keep quiet.

"We're sorry, Lils," Alice apologized, coming to sit on my bed beside me and wrap an arm around my shoulders. "But you have to admit, it is a _bit_ unexpected, and you always said that James Potter was the last boy on earth you'd ever be interested in, and how you'd rather be eaten up and regurgitated by the giant squid than spend any time voluntarily in his company, and—"

"Yes, I know, Alice, thank you," I said sharply.

"Looks, Lils, we're happy for you, okay? And we don't mean anything by it, but we can't help it if we find it funny. It _is_ funny. But it's not a bad thing." Marlene settled herself on my other side, patting my knee.

"Besides," Alice said demurely, "I think we're the least of your problems."

"What do you mean?" I asked, frowning.

Marlene snorted. "You think the Marauders aren't going to take the mickey out of you for this every chance they get? You must be getting thicker, Evans," she said, adeptly ducking the blow I aimed at her head.

"Shit, Marlene. Oh, fuck, I'm never gonna hear the end of it."

Alice rubbed my back sympathetically as Marlene tsk-tsked at me. I groaned, rubbing my temples to ease the headache that was growing. What the bloody hell had I gotten myself into?


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four (Fall, 1977)**

The teasing from the Marauders and my own friends ended up being not nearly as bad as I had anticipated. There were a few snide comments from Sirius about how Madam Puddifoot's was not, apparently, the only place people on dates would go and Remus asked in what could have been true disbelief how the bloody hell James had ever succeeded in convincing me that he was a decent human being, but for the most part, they got over it within a couple days and generously went back to teasing each other just as much as they did us.

The rest of Hogwarts, however, was not so kind. There were more than a few whispers and glances at me whenever I walked around outside of my dormitory, and even in the Gryffindor common room, I heard a couple of girls—and boys, too—exchanging nasty comments about what love potion I had used to make James so enamored with me, especially since I so obviously was nothing to sneeze at. This, I had stupidly not expected; I knew the Marauders were pretty popular with the ladies, especially Sirius and James, but I hadn't expected that their level of celebrity was such that merely _dating_ one of them would spark such fires of jealousy.

Even Bellatrix Black—Sirius's cousin and a girl who I would never in a million years have pegged as a Marauders groupie—cornered me in the girls' lavatory one day, wand casually in hand.

"Oh, _Lily_, just who I wanted to see! I hear you're not such the little prig anymore, is that right?" she asked me, smiling with eyes that were black and cold.

"What?" I asked dumbly, trying to remember if I had ever even had a conversation with her before. "What the bloody hell are you on about?"

She frowned a bit before laughing in my face. "James Potter, you dunce! Everybody knows it by now, so there's no point in acting shy. You're his whore."

I wrinkled my nose, eyeing her warily. The sudden mood changes were confusing to say the least, and I wasn't sure if I trusted in her sanity enough to believe she would abstain from violence.

"His whore? Alright, if that's what you want to say. It's none of your business anyway, and everyone knows you hate us, so you can go round saying whatever you like. It's not going to make you many friends."

"No friends?" Bellatrix pretended to pout, twirling her wand in one hand, making me incredibly nervous. "What about little Sev? You wouldn't want him to be without any friends at all just for telling the truth, hm?"

"Sev?" I spat back immediately, beginning to lose my temper. "You're a right git, you know that? And I mean it, you have no business trying to intimidate me because you're _jealous_ or something—" I made to push past her but she grabbed my arm, nails driving into my skin, and I yelped involuntarily.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!"

Before I could get free of her grip, she muttered "_Immobulus_" under her breath. I blinked stupidly, unable to move anything else, and tried my hardest not to panic—considering it was Bellatrix Black hexing me, I could have been paralyzed forever.

"You think I'm jealous of you, you disgusting little Mudblood?" she hissed, her grip iron on my arm. "You _are_ his whore. A Pureblood couldn't possibly see someone like you as his equal, no matter how much he deceives himself. Snape learned that right fast, and Potter will too, or he doesn't deserve to be a Pureblood—and he doesn't deserve to live. So you had better just let him do what he will and keep your bloody mouth shut, and stay in your place. We're keeping an eye on you, Evans, all of us. Don't you dare forget that."

I blinked in response, wishing I could yell out as loud as possible all of the epithets that poured into my head at her words, but I obviously couldn't and settled instead for trying to channel my thoughts into her head. The door banged open behind me, and Bellatrix released me with a low word, striding quickly from the room before I could catch my breath.

"Are you alright, Lily?" One of my first-years was standing in front of me, mouth open, hands wavering in the air as if she didn't know what to do with herself.

"I'm fine, Amaranthus, thank you," I said as calmly as I possibly could, taking deep breaths to keep my voice from shaking. "Go ahead, now, and be good. I'll see you later."

* * *

I told Marlene and Alice, having made my way back to our dormitory as fast as possible—luckily, they were both seated on my bed, discussing the romantic possibilities of Frank Longbottom, and I blurted out what had happened in less than a minute, feeling an insane urge to laugh and cry at the same time.

Alice looked completely shocked and Marlene looked like she wanted to kill something.

"Are you going to tell James?" she said, rising from the bed to pace back and forth. I slumped down into her spot, pulling my knees up to my chest and resting my chin on them.

"No," I answered after a pause. "I don't think…well, what could he do, you know? Nothing more than I could. It'd just be upsetting him more than I would need to, and—Merlin, is this even worth it?" I blew the air out through my lips and frowned.

"Is what worth it, Lils?" Alice asked tentatively, exchanging looks with Marlene.

"James! James Potter. I mean—yes, okay, he's good-looking, but who knows if he's actually really changed? And is it worth it going through all of the trouble—not just the Pureblood, Mudblood crap, but all of the Marauders' fan girls—for someone I didn't even remotely _like_ as a person until a few weeks ago? I mean, what the bloody hell am I doing?"

"We-ell," said Marlene slowly, "I don't mean to pick, but I never really thought of you as the 'giving up' type, Evans."

I fixed her with my best sarcastic glare and raised an eyebrow.

"You really think some kind of reverse psychology bullshit is gonna work here, Marls? Honestly, you're not the brightest if that _is_ what you're trying to do."

"Lils, don't," Alice reprimanded. "She's just trying to help, and she's not wrong. Who cares if a few girls are upset for a couple of days because James is a real, actual human being who has feelings for another person and not all twenty of them?"

"Yeah, and another thing," Marlene cut in, "don't you dare try to tell me you're not even gonna give it a shot because of some revolting Pureblood Voldemort bullshit, alright? 'Cause I'll tell you now, if you don't loosen up and have a little bit of fun, you're really gonna regret it. And if you let anybody else dictate your choices by being pissy and miserable to you, then I don't even think I know you."

Annoying as they might be, Marlene and Alice had a point; I hadn't really dated anyone in my entire life, and I was seventeen years old, about to enter a miserable world—if I didn't have fun now, when the hell would I? And I had to admit Marlene was right; I had always been pretty adamant about making my own choices for myself, and it would be stupid to give up something that was, at the moment, making me pretty happy.

"Fine," I sighed, ignoring Marlene's triumphant smile. "But I'm still not telling James."

"Shouldn't you, though? I mean, she might go after him. You wouldn't want him to be caught off-guard."

"Hm." I pretended to think about it to amuse Alice, but I would be out of my mind if I actually chose to tell him, and I knew it. He had the Marauders to protect him, and Bellatrix would much rather try to convert him to her Pureblood-above-everything cult than hurt him, anyway. If he knew, though, he and the rest of the Marauders would be very likely to go after Bellatrix and, in all probability, create more problems for me—and perhaps all of the other non-pure witches and wizards at Hogwarts. He didn't need my protection, and I _certainly_ didn't need his.

"Well, you just think about it, Lils," said Marlene, giving me a barely noticeable wink.

I heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down onto my bed, pulling my hair out from under my shoulders so it could spread out on my pillow. Marlene and Alice carefully steered their conversation back to Frank, and I listened without taking part, feeling my stomach slowly stop churning and settle back to normal, hoping James Potter would prove himself worth the trouble.

* * *

"Evans!"

I started and whirled around, my heart racing. I had been walking in an empty corridor, shivering a bit from the slight autumn bite in the air, reciting Potions recipes in my mind.

"Oh, Sirius," I said, exhaling audibly. "Thank Merlin."

He grinned wickedly and winked at me. "You're thanking Merlin to see me? Best not tell James then, eh?"

"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it. What do you want?"

"Not much, Evans, just the pleasure of your company," he said charmingly, but his dark eyes were serious.

"Alright, then," I said, letting the suspicion in my voice come through clearly.

He sighed, dropping the clever bad-boy act.

"If you must know, it's about my cousin. Bellatrix—you know her?" I nodded, and he continued on. "She's made it pretty clear to my brother

**Chapter Four (Fall, 1977)**

The teasing from the Marauders and my own friends ended up being not nearly as bad as I had anticipated. There were a few snide comments from Sirius about how Madam Puddifoot's was not, apparently, the only place people on dates would go and Remus asked in what could have been true disbelief how the bloody hell James had ever succeeded in presenting himself as a decent human being, but for the most part, they kept to themselves and were content to smile indulgently, as if they had known all along that this would happen.

The rest of Hogwarts, however, was not so kind. There were more than a few whispers and glances at me whenever I walked around outside of my dormitory, and even in the Gryffindor common room, I heard a couple of girls—and boys, too—exchanging nasty comments about what love potion I had used to make James so enamored with me, especially since I so obviously was nothing to sneeze at. This, I had stupidly not expected; I knew the Marauders were pretty popular with the ladies, especially Sirius and James, but I hadn't expected that their level of celebrity was such that merely _dating_ one of them would spark such fires of jealousy.

Even Bellatrix Black—Sirius's cousin and a girl who I would never in a million years have pegged as a Marauders groupie—cornered me in the girls' lavatory one day, wand casually in hand.

"Ooh, Evans, just who I wanted to see! I hear you're not such the little prig anymore, is that right?" she asked me, smiling with eyes that were black and cold.

"What?" I asked dumbly, trying to remember if I had ever even had a conversation with her before. "What the bloody hell are you on about?"

She frowned a bit before laughing in my face. "James Potter, you dunce! Everybody knows it by now, so there's no point in acting shy. You're his whore."

I wrinkled my nose, eyeing her warily. The sudden mood changes were confusing to say the least, and I wasn't sure if I trusted in her sanity enough to believe she would abstain from violence.

"His whore? Alright, if that's what you want to say. It's none of your business anyway, and everyone knows you hate us, so you can go round saying whatever you like. It's not going to make you many friends."

"No friends?" Bellatrix pretended to pout, twirling her wand in one hand, making me incredibly nervous. "What about little Sev? You wouldn't want him to be without any friends at all just for telling the truth, hm?"

"Sev?" I spat back immediately, beginning to lose my temper. "You're a right git, you know that? And I mean it, you have no business trying to intimidate me because you're _jealous_ or something—" I made to push past her but she grabbed my arm, nails driving into my skin, and I yelped involuntarily.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?!"

Before I could get free of her grip, she muttered "_Immobulus_" under her breath. I blinked stupidly, unable to move anything else, and tried my hardest not to panic—considering it was Bellatrix Black hexing me, I could have been paralyzed forever.

"You think I'm jealous of you, you disgusting little Mudblood?" she hissed, her grip iron on my arm. "You _are_ his whore. A Pureblood couldn't possibly see someone like you as his equal, no matter how much he deceives himself. Snape learned that right fast, and Potter will too, or he doesn't deserve to be a Pureblood—and he doesn't deserve to live. So you had better just let him do what he will and keep your bloody mouth shut, and stay in your place. We're keeping an eye on you, Evans, all of us. Don't you dare forget that."

I blinked in response, wishing I could yell out as loud as possible all of the epithets that poured into my head at her words, but I obviously couldn't and settled instead for trying to channel my thoughts into her head. The door banged open behind me, and Bellatrix released me with a low word, striding quickly from the room before I could catch my breath.

"Are you alright, Lily?" One of my first-years was standing in front of me, mouth open, hands wavering in the air as if she didn't know what to do with herself.

"I'm fine, Amaranthus, thank you," I said as calmly as I possibly could, taking deep breaths to keep my voice from shaking. "Go ahead, now, and be good. I'll see you later."

I told Marlene and Alice, having made my way back to our dormitory as fast as possible—luckily, they were both seated on my bed, discussing the romantic possibilities of Frank Longbottom, and I blurted out what had happened in less than a minute, feeling an insane urge to laugh and cry at the same time.

Alice looked completely shocked and Marlene looked like she wanted to kill something.

"Are you going to tell James?" she said, rising from the bed to pace back and forth. I slumped down into her spot, pulling my knees up to my chest and resting my chin on them.

"No," I answered after a pause. "I don't think…well, what could he do, you know? Nothing more than I could. It'd just be upsetting him more than I would need to, and—Merlin, is this even worth it?" I blew the air out through my lips and frowned.

"Is what worth it, Lils?" Alice asked tentatively, exchanging looks with Marlene.

"James! James Potter. I mean—yes, okay, he's good-looking, but who knows if he's actually really changed? And is it worth it going through all of the trouble—not just the Pureblood, Mudblood crap, but all of the Marauders' fan girls—for someone I didn't even remotely _like_ as a person until a few weeks ago? I mean, what the bloody hell am I doing?"

"We-ell," said Marlene slowly, "I don't mean to pick, but I never really thought of you as the 'giving up' type, Evans."

I fixed her with my best sarcastic glare and raised an eyebrow.

"You really think some kind of reverse psychology bullshit is gonna work here, Marls? Honestly, you're not the brightest if that _is_ what you're trying to do."

"Lils, don't," Alice reprimanded. "She's just trying to help, and she's not wrong. Who cares if a few girls are upset for a couple of days because James is a real, actual human being who has feelings for another person and not all twenty of them?"

"Yeah, and another thing," Marlene cut in, "don't you dare try to tell me you're not even gonna give it a shot because of some revolting Pureblood Voldemort bullshit, alright? 'Cause I'll tell you now, if you don't loosen up and have a little bit of fun, you're really gonna regret it. And if you let anybody else dictate your choices by being pissy and miserable to you, then I don't even think I know you."

Annoying as they might be, Marlene and Alice had a point; I hadn't really dated anyone in my entire life, and I was seventeen years old, about to enter a miserable world—if I didn't have fun now, when the hell would I? And I had to admit Marlene was right; I had always been pretty adamant about making my own choices for myself, and it would be stupid to give up something that was, at the moment, making me pretty happy.

"Fine," I sighed, ignoring Marlene's triumphant smile. "But I'm still not telling James."

"Shouldn't you, though? I mean, she might go after him. You wouldn't want him to be caught off-guard."

"Hm." I pretended to think about it to amuse Alice, but I would be out of my mind if I actually chose to tell him, and I knew it. He had the Marauders to protect him, and Bellatrix would much rather try to convert him to her Pureblood-above-everything cult than hurt him, anyway. If he knew, though, he and the rest of the Marauders would be very likely to go after Bellatrix and, in all probability, create more problems for me—and perhaps all of the other non-pure witches and wizards at Hogwarts. He didn't need my protection, and I _certainly_ didn't need his.

"Well, you just think about it, Lils," said Marlene, giving me a barely noticeable wink.

I heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down onto my bed, pulling my hair out from under my shoulders so it could spread out on my pillow. Marlene and Alice carefully steered their conversation back to Frank, and I listened without taking part, feeling my stomach slowly stop churning and settle back to normal, hoping James Potter would prove himself worth the trouble.

"Evans!"

I started and whirled around, my heart racing. I had been walking in an empty corridor, shivering a bit from the slight autumn bite in the air, reciting Potions recipes in my mind.

"Oh, Sirius," I said, exhaling audibly. "Thank Merlin."

He grinned wickedly and winked at me. "You're thanking Merlin to see me? Best not tell James then, eh?"

"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it. What do you want?"

"Not much, Evans, just the pleasure of your company," he said charmingly, but his dark eyes were serious.

"Alright, then," I said, letting the suspicion in my voice come through clearly.

He sighed, dropping the clever bad-boy act.

"If you must know, it's about my cousin. Bellatrix—you know her?" I nodded, and he continued on. "She's made it pretty clear to my brother—ah, that would be Regulus, he's in Slytherin—well, anyway, she's told him that she doesn't like you and Potter." At this, he smiled affectionately, patting me on the head. "He's the luckiest bastard alive, you know, but Bellatrix doesn't seem to think so. She, ah…well, you know she's one of those Pureblood freaks, and I suppose she thinks Potter dating someone who _isn't_ is a problem."

He coughed uncomfortably, like he was afraid of offending me and trailed off with a shrug.

"Oh, is that?" I asked politely. "I wouldn't expect any less of her. But thank you, Sirius, for warning me." Awkwardly, I reached out to clumsily pat his arm. I didn't know Sirius that well yet, but he was proving himself to be less of a jerk than I had thought, and I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I was a tad too cynical about people, before remembering Bellatrix and her fellows.

"Well, I'm off," he said, and walked quickly down the hallway with a salute.

I moved to the window, looking out on the brown and red and golden courtyard below. The situation was almost laughably ironic, and I actually giggled a bit to myself, resting against the window frame.

"You're a nutter, Evans, an absolute loon," I said quietly, before turning round and continuing my studying.

"If you must know, it's about my cousin. Bellatrix—you know her?" I nodded, and he continued on. "She's made it pretty clear to my brotherah, that would be Regulus, he's in Slytherin—well, anyway, she's told him that she doesn't like you and Potter." At this, he smiled affectionately, patting me on the head. "He's the luckiest bastard alive, you know, but Bellatrix doesn't seem to think so. She, ah…well, you know she's one of those Pureblood freaks, and I suppose she thinks Potter dating someone who _isn't_ is a problem."

He coughed uncomfortably, like he was afraid of offending me and trailed off with a shrug.

"Oh, is that?" I asked politely. "I wouldn't expect any less of her. But thank you, Sirius, for warning me." Awkwardly, I reached out to clumsily pat his arm. I didn't know Sirius that well yet, but he was proving himself to be less of a jerk than I had thought, and I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I was a tad too cynical about people, before remembering Bellatrix and her fellows.

"Well, I'm off," he said, and walked quickly down the hallway with a salute.

I moved to the window, looking out on the brown and red and golden courtyard below. The situation was almost laughably ironic, and I actually giggled a bit to myself, resting against the window frame.

"You're a nutter, Evans, an absolute loon," I said quietly, before turning round and continuing my studying.

* * *

I thought I had been keeping the Bellatrix incident a pretty good secret, and I actually had almost forgotten about it, until one night when James and I were sitting in the Gryffindor common room having just finished up patrolling the corridors. It was pretty cozy, with the fire spitting and crackling quietly, and we sat shyly next to each other, having clumsily come to a mutual agreement to hold hands.

"Um, Lily," James said, sitting up straighter and adjusting his glasses. "Do you have anything...ah, would you like to share anything with me?"

I giggled at his formality and squeezed his hand affectionately. "Um, no, Potter. Why, is there something you want to ask? You can just go ahead and do it, you know. No point beating around the bush."

"Right," he replied, and cleared his throat. "I know what happened with Bellatrix. And to be perfectly honest, I'm a bit miffed you didn't tell me."

I stifled the urge to laugh at his stiff manner again, realization dawning on me slowly.

"What—what happened with Bellatrix? What are you talking about?"

"That she cornered you in the bathroom and said all those bullshit lies to you, is what I'm talking about." He was eyeing me suspiciously, and I was dimly aware of the irony that James Potter should be accusing me of dishonesty.

"Well, so?" I challenged him, pulling my hand from his grasp. "It happened once, and I'm fine. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Potter—don't think I need you to always be defending me. I know what I am, and I know what they are, and I have enough self-confidence not to take their words to heart." I laughed in disbelief. "This is _exactly_ what happened with Sev—Snape, exactly the same thing, where you thought I couldn't take care of myself!"

"Lils, no," he said, rising to face me and placing his hands on my shoulders. "Please, I didn't mean it like that. I just...why didn't you tell me?"

I shrugged, but he kept his hands firm.

"I didn't tell you because it's nothing to worry about. It's not like because I've agreed to go out with you for a few weeks, I have to confide every little thing in you, you know."

"I do," he said softly, gently tucking a stray curl behind my ear. I did my best to ignore the reactionary clench in the pit of my stomach. "But you _should_ trust me, and if it's something you'd tell your friends, maybe you could tell me, too."

"Alr—wait, my friends? Shit. Which one of them told you?" I demanded, seeing his face turn scarlet.

"Ah...well, Alice, if you must know, but she did it in your best interests, Lils," he said desperately, and I forced myself not to sprint up the stairs and demand Alice tell me exactly what dementia she was suffering to do such a thing.

"I'm sure," I muttered, annoyed with both of them but willing myself not to be actually upset unless they presumed to interfere on my behalf. This decisions also helped me to not push James's hands away when they came up to touch my cheeks, his fingers gently massaging the back of my neck—an action I was grateful for, considering I held nearly all of my tension in my neck. I groaned a little involuntarily and saw his lips quirk into a half-smile.

"Like that, do you, Evans?" he said softly, continuing to caress the stressed muscles.

"Watch it, Potter," I replied sharply, but didn't push him away. "You're not so charming as all that."

He laughed softly but kept quiet, settling back down on the couch and pulling me with him, kissing me very gently on the lips before guiding me so that my head was in his lap and he could continue massaging my neck and shoulders. I blinked up at the hazel eyes looking contemplatively into the fire, mystified that my feelings of irritation had evaporated into thin air and somewhat gratified to break the usual cycle of spending hours thinking of clever, cutting comebacks to snap at James whenever he bothered me. Well, I wouldn't, considering he didn't bother me anymore, unless you count the pleasant discomfort of getting to know someone intimately.

Closing my eyes and settling into the couch, I realized that this must be a new and improved James Potter, indeed.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five (Fall, 1977)**

"Hello, Lils."

Marlene set her books down beside me, sitting down heavily and pushing back the dirty blonde hair from her face.

"Marlene," I said warmly. "Thank Merlin, I've been sitting in this bloody library for two hours and I think I'm going mad, if I haven't already."

She laughed and rolled her eyes, leaning on the table and resting her head in one hand so she could look at me.

"You're a bit of a nerd, Lils, you know that?"

I shrugged; sure, maybe I was a bit over-the-top when it came to school, but considering I'd been raised unaware that magic existed at _all_, let alone that I could practice it, I was a bit obsessed with the subject.

"Are you here to study?" I asked, frowning. "I honestly can't remember the last time I knew of you studying, Marlene, not to be rude."

She shrugged. "I don't, generally. And no, I'm not here to study. I thought we should, er, discuss a few things."

I snorted. "What, you want to give me the sex talk, or something?"

She paused, looking at me hesitantly, and I felt the smile drop from my face.

"Marlene, no. You're too—this is so ridiculous, you're being very embarrassing." I could feel my face growing red, and she raised an arched eyebrow.

"Well, if I didn't think I needed to sit you down for this before, I certainly do now," she said, and grabbed my wrist as I tried to get up and escape. "Sit down, Evans. You're going to have to deal with it sooner or later, and since you seem to be serious about Potter, I think it's best we get this over with as soon as possible."

"Why?" I hissed, looking around wildly at our fellow library-goers. "I think I know enough already, and I don't think this is the best time or place, either—"

Before I could continue, she had me above the elbow and was dragging me through the corridors until we were out and down the stairs and in the fresh sunlight. A few students milled about on the grassy space stretching down to the lake, sunbathing and enjoying the last bits of warmth—it was mid-October already, and Scottish winters were nothing if not dreadful. Deciding this was privacy enough, Marlene sat down solidly on the grass and patted the spot beside her. Despite every muscle in my body twitching to get away, I decided it would be best to hear what advice she could give me; I didn't want to be rude, after all, since she was probably doing this out of the goodness of her own heart. Probably.

"Alright, Lils, tell me what you know," she said matter-of-factly when I had settled beside her.

"I know enough," I replied defensively. "I know—you know, what goes where, and all that. I don't suppose that's enough for you, is it?"

She laughed, patting my head as if I were a child.

"You're quite the innocent, Lils, you know that? You've never been with a boy, have you?"

I shook my head.

"No, didn't think so. Hm, that leaves a lot of ground to be covered, then." She tapped her finger on her chin contemplatively, thinking, before launching into a lecture on seduction, the importance of foreplay, what to do with what body part, and everything I could think of (plus some) on the subject of sexual interactions between a male and female.

She paused for breath after what seemed like ten minutes of uninterrupted speaking, and I chose that moment to make my escape.

"This has been informative, Marlene, thank you very much, but I've got to finish studying now and I'll think about what you've said," I said cheerfully, rising to go.

"Oh, come on, Lils. Do you really think you don't need to know any of this?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I never really—I hadn't thought that far. And I don't know if, you know, Potter and I will even make it that far. I don't know. It's all a bit intimidating, really, and I hadn't really considered…"

Marlene nodded. "Yeah, I know. I just wanted you to be prepared, is all, in case anything were to happen. I mean, you haven't got your mum here, or your sister, or anyone but us, really—and Alice is even more of a virgin than you are, if that's possible. I thought it would be helpful for you to know."

I sighed, flopping back down on the grass beside her, feeling very guilty and very much as if I suddenly _should_ know, just in case. I mean, I had no definite or immediate plans to let Potter get that far, but someday, perhaps…

"Alright, go on," I said, resting my head back on the soft tufts of grass as Marlene relaxed beside me and began telling me all the gory details of _her_ first time in the broom closet with Callum Winchester…

* * *

James, as it were, didn't really bring up the subject of sex or anything remotely related much, probably out of a (not entirely inaccurate) fear that I wouldn't react very positively. To tell the truth, though, I wasn't sure how I'd react at all. Considering I'd never really even _dated_ anyone before James, I'd certainly never done anything more than a relatively innocent kiss. And I hadn't lied when I told Marlene I didn't think about it, but she'd had a point when she'd told me that I couldn't really indulge in thinking I had very long to enjoy the more pleasant points of romance—less than a year, and I'd have a lot more to worry about than how far to go with James Potter.

I exhaled forcefully, brushing my fingers against the wall as I patrolled the corridor. I'd let James off since he'd been desperate to study—it seemed like at least once a month, he had to take the night off, but I didn't really mind, since it gave me a chance to be truly alone with my thoughts. Engrossed in my own little world, I hardly noticed the dark figure standing in front of me until I actually bumped into it.

Catching my breath, I jumped back, my wand already in hand, afraid it was Bellatrix come to finish me off.

"Lily!" The voice hissing out of the darkness was easily recognizable, and I felt my shoulders drop their tension immediately before my mind realized that it should be very angry.

"What do you want, Severus?" I snapped.

"I—I just wanted to say I'm sorry," he mumbled. "For what I said. And I heard about what Bellatrix did, she was practically bragging about it in the Slytherin common room, and I…well, I'm sorry," he finished lamely.

"Okay." I crossed my arms, the old stubbornness creeping over me like mist. "Doesn't really change much, though. You're still a Death Eater?"

"Yes."

"Mhm." I turned to go, but he caught me by the shoulder. Enraged, I turned round and shoved him as hard as I could right in the chest, and felt a teensy bit of satisfaction at the surprise on his pale face.

"Don't touch me," I snarled through my teeth, "_ever_ again."

"Lily," he said softly, his voice cracking. I gritted my teeth, determined not to feel bad for him—after all, he certainly didn't feel bad for any of the witches and wizards who'd be killed—who were being killed—by his fellows.

I broke eye contact first and whirled round, pacing quickly down the corridor to get away from him as fast as possible and end the completely unreasonable, stupid, unnecessary guilt that was beginning to well in my heart.

"He's a Death Eater, he's a Death Eater, he's a Death Eater," I chanted under my breath, not stopping until I reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and sank to sit on the floor, clutching my fingers together to keep my hands from shaking.

I missed Severus, no matter how terrible he was. He'd been my first friend, the first wizard I knew and the first person who really knew me. It wasn't exactly easy, letting go of a connection like that, even if the person on the other end turned out to be a horrible prejudiced git.

* * *

There was a Halloween party in the Gryffindor common room, and Marlene, Alice, and I dressed up as black cats, that being our shared favorite animal. I had left my hair down, the long ginger curls cover my shoulders, and the stark contrast between the dark black clothes and cat-ear headband and my hair brought out the green in my eyes to their maximum effect. All in all, I was feeling pretty good about myself.

Sirius had brought some Firewhiskey—of course—but refrained from pulling it out until the younger students had grown tired and gone to bed, around eleven. At midnight, when the only ones left standing were the sixth and seventh years, James put on some silly rock record and Sirius brought out the bottles and passed them around. Remus looked on disapprovingly, hold only a bottle of Butterbeer, but Peter and the rest of the Gryffindors took part vigorously. There were no cups, so me, Marlene, and Alice shared a bottle, sitting on the floor in the corner and laughing hysterically at each other and the boys' ridiculous dance moves.

I took the bottle carefully from Marlene's hand, the neck warm from our gripping it, and put the sticky rim to my mouth, feeling the liquor burn, through the back of my mouth and down my throat. Setting the bottle very carefully on the floor, I pushed myself up to stand, taking a few tentative steps as the world tilted under my feet.

"Lils!" James reached me in two strides, his face flushed and his hair sweaty and messy, and pulled me tight against him, rocking side to side in time to the music.

The song changed, and he pulled away from me, still holding my hands, and held our clasped hands up together, putting a light hand on my waist and turning me, spinning me, then dipping me so low my hair brushed the floor, his hand big and warm and solid on the curve of my back. I stood, giggling, my hair sticking to my face and feeling out of breath, and pulled on his hands, walking backwards out of the fray of dancing, drunk people until we were standing by ourselves.

"Shall we?" James said playfully, gesturing towards the doorway and raising an eyebrow. My first instinct was to say no—we weren't _supposed_ to—but that was smothered in the drunk heaviness that made laughter bubble up in my throat and told my brain that I wouldn't even care if we were caught, and I nodded.

Leading the way, he slipped through the doorway, and I tagged along, holding onto his hand for something to follow in the swirling reality around me. We walked quietly—almost, saving the occasional whisper or giggle—until we were out in the open air. I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes for a moment; the cool air of the October night chilled the sweat that had gathered on my skin, and I shivered slightly, reveling in the sensation.

"You look beautiful." I opened my eyes to see James looking at me, his hazel eyes dark in the night. "Like how Muggles imagine witches to look. Wild, I mean. Powerful."

I smiled, embarrassed, and looked down at my feet, leaning against him slightly.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should."

I snorted, looking back up at him. The moonlight fell on his face oddly, making it pale and stony and lovely, the dark shadows of his face and hair contrasting with the whiteness of the skin over the bones, the sharp line of his jaw cutting away to the darkness of his throat, looking strong and elegant.

"Well, you look beautiful, too," I murmured, my gaze resting on the soft lips in front of me.

Before I could react, he bent his head and kissed me, not softly as he usually did, but with a sort of underlying tension, wrapping his hand around the back of my head and pulling me towards him as he pushed against me, moving me until my back came up against the hard stone wall of the castle.

I couldn't think of anything beyond the fact that the whole universe had seemingly shrunk down to this point, of James's lips on mine, and I instinctively pulled him against me, feeling the muscles of his back moving under my hands as he bent lower, pressing his lips to my jaw and my temple and my neck, and I ran one hand up to his hair, reveling in the feeling of the soft, damp hair against my hand, thick between my fingers.

Pulling his head back up to mine, he pressed his forehead against me before kissing me again. This time, my mouth opened of its own accord, and I felt the soft sweetness of his tongue under my own, tasting of liquor and excitement and James. His hands, resting on my hips, pressed into my body, his thumbs tracing their way up, to my ribs, brushing so impossibly gently against the bottoms of my breasts and then, for a moment, my nipples, as I pressed a kiss onto his neck, right where I could feel his pulse, and he made a little noise.

I giggled, under my breath; I was absolutely, ridiculously giddy with everything—the night, the Firewhiskey, touching James and _being_ touched. I had never in my lifetime been touched like that by another person, and it was almost more intoxicating than the liquor in my bloodstream.

Running his hands down my waist to my arse, I slid one leg up his, and he reflexively pulled me up so I was pinned against the wall, the only thing keeping me up his body against mine, and I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, tilting my head back to rest against the cool stones as James pressed somewhat sloppy, drunken kisses along my collarbone, down my chest to the tops of my breasts.

Placing his hands on either side of my face, he pulled my face down to his and kissed me a final time before pulling away, hands dropping to his sides as my feet touched the ground again, and taking two steps backwards.

I stood, my back against the wall, feeling like some sort of trapped animal, split between wanting to stay frozen, staring at James, and desperate to be touching him again, to have him against me, solid and real and mine.

He looked back at me, eyes dark and unreadable, a fine sheen of sweat covering his cheekbones, both of us breathing heavily.

"Merlin, Lily," he said at last with a little laugh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You're—I think I'm absolutely mad for you, you know that?"

"You are," I said, feeling supremely confident, and he laughed.

"Should we go back, d'you think?"

I shrugged, feeling very irresponsible and wanting to be safely back in the Gryffindor tower, but unwilling to be inside when life was so beautiful out here.

"In a minute, maybe."

James nodded, coming to stand by me, leaning up against the wall so that he could look down at me, and picked up one of my hands to kiss it softly.

"Merlin, I love you," he whispered, so softly I barely even heard it.

* * *

I woke up with a throbbing head and squinted my eyes against the bright, unforgiving sunlight streaming into the girls' dormitory. I sat up, still in my cat outfit, and felt my stomach turn.

"Oh, look who it is!" I heard Alice coo. "Sleeping Beauty has awoken. How wonderful."

"Just in time for breakfast, figures," Marlene added, coming over to my bed to peer at me. "Alright there, Evans?"

"Mm," I replied, rubbing my eyes. "You?"

"Fine. _We_ didn't stay out until three in the morning, so we're doing great," said Alice brightly. "Would you like a little hair of the dog, as it were?"

I wrinkled my nose at her but accepted the strong smelling potion, downing it in one gulp and trying not to think about it. The liquid burned and my head felt split with pain for a moment, but I felt better a minute later and got out of bed, dressing quickly and pulling the tangled, frizzy mess of red curls into a loose bun.

"Hurry up, Evans, we'll miss breakfast," said Marlene, standing the doorway; Alice had already rushed downstairs, paranoid about missing class.

"They should _not_ have classes the day after Halloween," I grumbled, picking up my bookbag and swinging it over my shoulder. "I mean, it's practically the biggest holiday in the wizarding world, and nobody thinks we should maybe have a bit of a break, hm?"

Marlene shrugged. "Well, I think perhaps if you went to bed before one in the morning, you wouldn't feel so lousy, Evans. But I suppose it's a bit too late for that little piece of advice."

I pushed her and she laughed, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

"Ah, to be young and in love."

* * *

I avoided James's eyes at breakfast, focusing on buttering my toast nicely and making it to my first class of the day on time. It was Potions, but Remus had thankfully insisted on sitting beside me. I wasn't exactly _embarrassed_ about what I'd done with James the previous night, but I certainly was too sober not to be on the same level of not caring that I had been, and felt the slightest bit awkward around him.

James put up a little fuss before giving in and sitting with Sirius, leaving Peter to fend for himself.

"You know, you should really include him more," I reprimanded Remus, watching Peter scuttle around finding a partner.

Remus shrugged, tossing his blond hair casually out of his eyes. "He'll be fine." He eyed me speculatively as Slughorn came in, dropping his books on the desk and beginning to write out the day's tasks on the blackboard. "Are you alright, Lily? You look a bit ill."

"I'm wonderful," I snapped. "Just a bit of a late night, is all. You don't look so good yourself," I added nastily.

He put up his hands in surrender and went up to get our ingredients, giving me a moment to pull myself together. We spent the first half hour of class silently mixing together ingredients, only speaking to confer on the potion-making process. Once we had it bubbling well, though, Remus cleared his throat.

"I, ah—I think I had better—well, really, I think it's best—" He cut himself off, frowning, and I rolled my eyes, immediately regretting the action; the morning's potion _had_ helped my hangover tremendously, but it didn't mean my head wasn't still twinging a bit.

"Don't let James force you into anything, Lily," Remus said suddenly, and I looked at him in surprise.

"What?"

"Don't let him, I mean it. I know he quite likes you and he doesn't mean anything bad, but you just—take your time." Remus cleared his throat again, turning red.

"Seriously, Remus? You think I can't fend James off, or make decisions of that kind for myself?" I asked, trying to keep my tone polite. It was nice of Remus to care, but it really wasn't any of his business. "Look, I understand what you mean, and I _know_. I'm not about to let James Potter take advantage of me, if that's what you mean."

He nodded and then tapped the cauldron with his wand, clumsily changing the topic back to the task at hand.

* * *

"How are you feeling?"

I opened one eye a crack to see James standing over me, grinning, his hair falling into his face. He'd just finished up Quidditch practice and I'd gone down to wait for him, to speak with him, but had fallen asleep in the grass, cuddled in my sweater.

"Not bad, Potter," I said, shifting so I could sit up. "You don't seem much worse for the wear."

He shrugged, settling down beside me. "I've had more experience with Firewhiskey than you, I reckon."

"Mm." I rested my chin in my hand, trying to push away the awkward nervousness I felt in my chest. "How'd practice go?"

"Great. I think we'll win on Saturday."

"Excellent."

"Yep."

I turned my focus downwards, plucking out individual blades of grass, feeling the annoying familiar heat creeping up the back of my neck. James sighed and wiggled closer, draping a heavy arm around my shoulders and squeezing my arm gently.

"Are you feeling some sort of regret, or something, Lils?" he asked softly.

"No!" I turned to see his face, just in time to notice a flash of—satisfaction?—cross it before he nodded seriously.

"No, I'm not _regretting_ anything, James," I said again, forcefully.

"That's good news," he replied jovially, and pulled me tighter against his side, kissing my cheek so I smiled like an idiot.

"Shut up," I muttered, shoving him playfully, and he laughed, lying back on the grass and pulling me down with him.

"You can trust me, Lils. With anything," James said, his voice soft and serious.

I turned resting my head on his shoulder so he could wrap his arm around me and closed my eyes, basking the warmth of the sun on my face and the heat coming off his body, sleepiness pulling me down into the depths.

"I know."


	7. Chapter 6

_AN: Reviews/comments/constructive criticisms/what could be improved on are all VERY welcome and help a lot! Thank you for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! :)  
_

* * *

**Chapter Six (Fall, 1977)**

The fall passed relatively quickly; November came in with a rush of swirling leaves, brown and yellow and gold and amber, and I felt like I had finally achieved some level of peace. I was no longer concerned about Severus—of course, he had been my friend, and I wished he would see enough sense to give up this Death Eater nonsense, but if he wouldn't, it wasn't my fault.

And, obviously, I no longer had to deal with the annoyance of James Potter, since I no longer found him, well, annoying. All the little things that had annoyed me before became endearing, like the deep, unswerving loyalty he had for his friends—clearly, they all shared something deep, something that I couldn't put my finger on, but I began to value that devotion more than anything else, where before I had seen it as simply an exclusionary bond between a bunch of snobby bullies.

I hadn't even thought about Petunia this whole time, as the weather grew colder and the trees began to sharpen into dark, rigid outlines against the stormy skies, Christmas approaching fast on the horizon. Normally, I would have felt the same usual sadness I did when I thought about going home to see Petunia; we had been so close for so long when we were young, but the jealousy she'd felt about my being a witch—something she could never attain, no matter what she did—had driven her away from me and turned her into an icy cold woman who I barely even knew. Christmastime brought all the happy memories back up, since that had been our shared favorite holiday, and brought with it a certain sadness that my own sister was a stranger to me. This year, though, I had been too caught up in myself to remember, until I received a very primly written letter informing me that Petunia had met someone, Vernon Dursley, and she wished for me to meet him over the winter holidays.

I was reading the letter before the fire in the Gryffindor common room, a cup of milky tea in one hand, when two large, callused hands closed themselves over my eyes and a familiar voice said, "Guess who!"

Startled, I turned, letting go of the mug, which crashed to the floor and spilt the tea everywhere.

"Merlin, James!" I said angrily, disconcerted. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

He looked genuinely remorseful and pulled out his wand to clean up the mess, but I waved him away; I felt bad for yelling at him, since I had probably overreacted, but I wasn't exactly in the mood to act the love-smitten girlfriend at the moment. Quickly, I whispered under my breath and the mug repaired itself, tea vanishing into the air. Taking a deep breath, I turned back to James.

"I'm sorry," I said stiffly. "You caught me off guard."

"I can see that," he replied, raising one dark eyebrow. "D'you want to tell me why you're acting like somebody's hexed you?"

I lifted one shoulder, looking down at the letter in my hand, the neat black letters lining across the page.

"My sister has invited me to meet her new boyfriend," I said at last, and he shook his head, confused. "I don't—we don't really get along. We haven't spoken on friendly terms in months, if not years, I can barely remember….I don't know. I _want_ to see her, I want to be close again, but I—I can't imagine how it could go right."

Gingerly, James lifted the letter from my hand and read it, a slight frown on his face. He was sweaty, just come in from Quidditch practice, and his cheeks and nose were cold, the dark hair sticking to his forehead, the glasses smudged, and I thought I'd never seen a more handsome sight, feeling my heart instantaneously soften. I shook my head to clear it, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at myself; I was absolutely ridiculous, but I couldn't exactly help it—and, to tell the honest truth, I didn't really want to.

"I could go with you," James said, casually handing the letter back and moving round the couch to sit next to me.

"Are you sure? I mean, it wouldn't be fun, and—no offense, James—but I doubt you could really make things go any smoother."

He shrugged, grinning happily. "Doesn't mean I can't make it more fun. And you said it yourself, Lils, you think it won't go that well anyhow—may as well bring me along so you don't have to face it yourself."

I felt a surge of gratefulness and a little bit of guilt that he'd be willing to sacrifice an evening he could be spending with the Marauders—after all, such nights were numbered, with only a few months standing between us and the war—to sit in a stodgy restaurant with my sister and her likely insufferable boyfriend.

But that didn't mean that I wasn't going to take his suggestion to heart, either.

"Well, if you insist, Potter," I said mildly, picking up the mug from the floor and filling it with more tea from my wand.

Laughing quietly, James reached an arm around and pulled me against him, leaning my head on his shoulder, and kissed the top of my hair, his lips cold on my scalp, a lovely contrast against the warm tea cupped in my hands.

Putting a hand under my chin, he carefully tilted my head up to press his lips gently against mine, the chilly sensation sending a shiver down my spine. I enjoyed the sensation for a minute, the feeling of such soft, cool lips against my own, before pulling away.

"You're going to spill my tea again," I reprimanded him, sternly tapping his nose.

James laughed softly, the dark hair tumbling across the sharp hazel eyes.

"Damn the bloody tea." With a swift gesture, he took the mug from my hand and set it on the floor before pressing gently on my shoulders so that I was lying completely flat on the couch, his lean body stretched over mine, his eyes hovering brightly only a few inches away from my own for a moment before he pressed against me, lips against mine, and I could taste his tongue, cold and fresh.

I could only enjoy it for a few moments, though, before a loud whoop caused me to start, jerking my knees up in surprise—and barely missing James's sensitive bits—and scoot off the couch, glaring at the intruder. Marlene, of course.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something, Lils?" she asked innocently, and I felt my face flush immediately.

"No," I said shortly, straightening my jumper and making a determined effort to change the subject. "Where've you been? It's almost curfew."

She raised one eyebrow but didn't say anything, making her point simply by looking slowly back and forth between me and James.

Sneaking a quick glance, I saw he wasn't bothered in the least; he hadn't even gotten up from the couch, but was leaning casually against the arm, looking calmly at Marlene, and for some reason it made me feel childish and immature that I was so startled by her entrance. Immature, and annoyed; his lack of embarrassment reminded me for some unknowable reason of the many, many girls he'd probably been physically intimate with, and the stupid, jealous side of me couldn't stand the thought.

"I'm going to bed," I said stiffly, not wanting to stay and either pretend not to be upset or have it out with James. "Marlene?"

James stood up, finally looking surprised, and bent to kiss me on the lips. He straightened back up with a frown, brows pulled together, as if trying to read my mind as to why my mood had suddenly changed from amorous back to reserved, but I didn't give him a chance to say anything, instead practically sprinting up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

I heard Marlene say good night to James and follow me more slowly. Throwing on my pajamas, I did my best to calm down, but the stereotypical redhead temper was true to form and refused to let me out of its grasp.

Most of the other girls were asleep, so Marlene didn't get a chance to say anything, and I gratefully slipped into bed, lying on my side and listening to the soft sounds of sleep around me, wondering where the bloody hell any of this could lead.

* * *

The next day was a Sunday, and I spent most of it as I usually did—in the library, studying my arse off. Normally, my friends knew not to bother me on Sundays, since it was the only day of the week I could have almost entirely to myself, finishing up homework and preparing for the week ahead. This time, though, Marlene and Alice both showed up and dragged me to lunch in the Great Hall, despite my very vocal protests.

Sitting very carefully at the very end of the Gryffindor table, a couple seats away from anyone who could overhear, Alice fixed me with a very kindly, pitying look. Marlene kept one eyebrow raised, almost challenging, and I did my best to ignore her.

"What?" I said after a few moments of this awkwardness. "What do you idiots want?"

"Lily, lovey, there's no need to be upset," said Alice gently; somehow she had the knack of saying things that would normally infuriate me with the effect of actually making me calm.

"I'm not," I said, feeling a bit guilty for calling her an idiot. Clearly, she had very good intentions, despite her means of carrying them out—for example, dragging me out of the library against my free will.

"Perfect." I shot a meaner glance at Marlene, but she was entirely unperturbed.

"We just wanted to check in," Alice began again, reaching across the table to fold her hands over mine. "Marlene told me that last night…well, she said you seemed upset with James. Or her. She wasn't very clear about it, I suppose, but we just wanted to make sure everything was going okay." She paused shyly, looking at Marlene. "You know you can tell us _anything_, Lils. We're here for you."

I felt my heart catch at the words; I'd been pretty selfish lately, and hadn't even bothered asking Alice about Frank Longbottom, even though everyone knew that they were both interested in each other. Suddenly I felt the urge to cry, and set my jaw, embarrassed at my own emotional state.

"Thank you, Alice," I said, forcing my voice to sound normal. "But I just—I'm fine, I really am—I—" I broke off, frustrated, actually make a little snarling noise, loud enough to attract worried looks from our fellow diners.

"I just feel," I said as calmly as I could, "that I am wasting my time here. I don't want to spend my last year at Hogwarts caught up in some teenage romance bullshit, and I feel incredibly stupid that my biggest concern at the moment is how many other girls James Potter has been with. For Merlin's sake, Bellatrix attacked me in the bathroom for being a Mudblood!" I saw Alice flinch at the word, but continued on, ignoring her. "I should be concerned about _that_, about the Death Eaters, about how I'm going to survive once I leave this castle, and all I can _bloody_ think about—"

I broke off, my breath coming out ragged, feeling a little stupid but overwhelmingly better for having gotten it all out.

"No, you shouldn't," said Marlene immediately, casually. "Are you going to be happy ten years from now that you spent your last year at Hogwarts worrying about things that weren't going to happen for months, at least? Or will you be happy that you got to enjoy being a teenager, worrying about teenager stuff?"

Alice nodded vigorously in agreement, still clasping my hands. "It's true, Lils."

"But you _shouldn't_ worry about Potter," Marlene added.

"Mm," I replied, turning my attention to the food on the plate in front of me. I hadn't touched it, but it was serving as a useful distraction to avoid making eye contact with either of my friends.

I wasn't exactly comfortable sharing my feelings—the last person I'd been entirely open with was Severus Snape, and that blew up in my face. And I hadn't really had many feelings to _share_ with my Hogwarts friends, besides the occasional annoyance at James Potter, and the amount of emotions that had come with actually liking him was much more overwhelming, and to be honest, I didn't really know what to do about them.

I was just making my excuses to get back to the library to have some time to think about what Marlene and Alice said when I heard Remus's tentative voice behind me say my name. Turning, I saw him, sandy hair flopping around and a concerned expression on his kind face.

"What is it, Remus?" I asked politely.

"James—" He turned back, and I followed his gaze to the Marauders, where Sirius frowned as James immediately ducked his head. "He was wondering," he continued, turning back to me, "if you were upset with him."

I nearly laughed out loud at the silliness of the whole thing, but Remus's face was entirely serious, and I stopped just short.

"You may inform him I am not," I said, and he nodded, turning to go. "But," I added, raising my voice so James himself could hear me, "tell him that next time he can bloody well ask me himself. Yeah?"

Remus cracked a grin and shrugged, as though he thought it was silly, too, before returning to his friends.

I fixed James with a raised eyebrow, and he set his chin on his hands, looking at me with a face of complete, wide-eyed innocence, blinking solemnly. A little feeling of happiness rose within me at the sight, and I did my best to force it back, shaking my head at my own emotional confusion, and walked out of the Great Hall, feeling a little lighter.

* * *

Things got on extremely well with James after that; we didn't have a lot of time together, him focused on the Quidditch season and myself concentrating on my studies, but we did what we could. We always ate together, but we had to share that time with our friends, and while I didn't mind, exactly, I always looked forward to the end of the day when we could patrol the corridors together, usually holding hands and sneaking kisses.

On one particular evening, though, things got a bit more out of hand that I had anticipated. It'd been a long day, and I was absolutely exhausted and nearly driven mad by N.E.W.T.s, and I didn't particularly care if everyone was safely tucked away in bed.

As soon as I could, I pulled James into a poorly lit alcove, pulling him against me, feeling the soft, long hair at the nape of his neck as I pulled his head down for a kiss, the other hand firmly pressed into his solid back. He pulled back momentarily, placing both hands on either side of me, boxing me in against the wall, and I saw a slight grin on his shadowed face, his eyes dark and unreadable, the firelight flickering and showing the dimple in his cheek.

"You're a very naughty girl tonight, Evans," he said teasingly, but his voice was low and I felt my breath catch.

"Well, Potter, I think I deserve a treat," I replied, looking pointedly at his mouth, those soft lips, dark red in the dim light. "I've done very well on my exams, after all." I briefly considered trying to say more witty things, but I didn't see the point, and instead stood up on tiptoe, kissing him very gently at first, until he put on hand on the back of my head and pulled me against him, kissing me deeper, rougher, catching my lower lip momentarily between his teeth.

This time, my head was completely empty of anything but the need to feel him against me, and that I did, very solidly against my hip, and I could barely think about what I was doing before my hand traced its way down his back, around his hip, to the front of his trousers.

"Lily," he said, very softly against my mouth, before pressing his mouth to mine again, his tongue slick and cool and sweet against my own. I would probably have been embarrassed if I'd seen myself, but I couldn't really think very straight at the moment, instead sliding both hands under his jumper and up his stomach, feeling his ribs under the skin and muscle, my thumbs circling his nipples.

His own hands, demurely resting on my lower back until that point, pulled me roughly against him, one ripping my cardigan and shirt open—dimly I thought it would be annoying to reattach the buttons—until I was standing, shirt open, as he slid a hand up under my bra, his mouth kissing along my collarbone, down to the top of my breast, and I twined my hand in the thick dark hair, leaning my head back against the stony wall, when a little sound made me nearly scream out loud.

I snapped open my eyes, shoving James away by instinct, but there was no one there. The idea of being caught, however illicitly pleasurable, had made me too nervous.

"We—" I began to speak, but I was still flushed and throbbing from his hands and mouth, and I was having trouble focusing. "We need to patrol," I continued after a moment, fastening what buttons I could. James didn't argue, simply nodded and turned the subject to other things, but I remained silent, almost sullen, and went to sleep that night with a feeling of aching emptiness.

* * *

To my own (somewhat) surprise, the lack of any further intimacy was growing more and more frustrating. James didn't say a word, and I didn't feel comfortable just yet bringing up the subject more than I needed to, but I did corner Marlene in our dormitory the day before I would be returning home to Cokeworth and demand some more of her wisdom on the topic.

It didn't exactly prove useful.

"You'll be alone together enough, won't you?" she asked, flipping through the Daily Prophet and only giving me half of her attention. "I really doubt you'll find it difficult to do…whatever it is you want to do."

"But what _do _I do?!" I asked almost hysterically; admittedly, I was overreacting, but I didn't want to avoid that level of our relationship forever, and I was more than a little concerned about knowing what the bloody hell I was doing. And, considering I'd mostly ignored Marlene last time she'd talked about it, I really needed a refresher course.

"I think he'll be able to tell you, Lils," she said smartly, grinning.

I was just about to try and blackmail her into giving me more tips than that, but Alice walked in, face bright, and I was immediately distracted by her infatuation with Frank, a topic we discussed so far into the night I had to stay up until two in the morning trying to pack all of my things.

The next day, we all boarded the train together, the Marauders sitting with me, Alice, and Marlene, and we spent most of the ride napping or reading or playing a quiet game. James and I sat closest to the window, and I relaxed against him, watching the Scottish landscape slide easily by, frosty and lovely.

"I can't believe I'm going to meet your family," James said, voice low and soft in my ear, and I remembered with a sinking feeling our plans with Petunia.

"Aw, quite the proper little boyfriend, aren't you, Prongs?" said Sirius, grinning sarcastically. I narrowed my eyes at him, but James just laughed, shrugging.

"I suppose so, and what's wrong with that?" he replied. "I suppose you haven't got anyone to be a proper boyfriend _to_, though, so you wouldn't understand."

Sirius laughed, and the two of them continued back and forth, joking and teasing each other as wittily as ever, but I couldn't make myself join in the fun. I was too busy trying to imagine what the bloody hell I was going to deal with Petunia, and it wasn't looking like a very nice picture.


End file.
